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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119818">Later on</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvuscorv/pseuds/corvuscorv'>corvuscorv</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Clone High</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Fluff, M/M, halloween fic!!!, i guess, im not english speaking actually, no beta because we die like men, underage smoking (implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:07:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvuscorv/pseuds/corvuscorv</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A jock in vamp costume and a gremlin without a costume at all have a rest after the Halloween party.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>JFK/Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Later on</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>first published fic check ✌</p><p>all sorts of comments/criticism are greatly appreciated; im kinda nervous bc I haven't done it before and don't have a tried example or any experience yet haha<br/>aaand since english isnt my first language excUSE ME FOR PROBABLY EXCESSIVE OR MISSING ARTICLES AND OTHER SHIT AT LEAST I TRIED :(</p><p>inst @corvusfrug some illustrations and related images and just jfgogh pics are there</p><p>hope you all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That whole Halloween party thing was not that bad as Vincent assumed. Lots of decorations, colorful flashes of light, even alcoholic (unlike last time) beer! More than that he was given a bunch of models wildly dancing (or just chaotically jerking?) in the middle of the room or chilling with their backs pressed against the walls and chattering − he filled a good half of his sketchbook with various doodles and was contented with his impromptu life drawing session. Then he had a friendly conversation with Joan gazing at the golden clouds slowly passing the sky, hung around fumbling with an empty plastic cup in his hand noting how smoothly honey colored lights cast by the dying sun sat on the roof of JFK's house.</p><p>***</p><p>Now he was lying half-drunk captured between the pillows, the room was lit only by the moon peeking in the window from outside, pennants attached to the walls looked like strange dark spots. More than half-drunk Kennedy spread out on the bed and snuggling into Vincent's shoulder quietly mumbled something senseless. From time to time he readjusted himself and braced Gogh in his arms like a teddy bear at a new angle.</p><p>Vincent's fingers were idly stroking brunette's forearm, feeling the heat radiating through the layers of JFK's costume. Oh, this absolutely-phat-and-totally-making-chicks-want-me-as-hell costume, JFK waited for it for so long and fussed over it in the beginning and now he just sunk into the matters and the possibility of starched cloth to be completely wrinkled didn't bother him at all.</p><p>Yeah, a medieval style vampire costume was worth it. Everybody looked at him with amusement and rapture except one lil art gremlin who (you wouldn't believe!) deadpanned that he wasn't into those kind of events. Of course, who cares, Kennedy was finally managed to get him to the party, putting a devil horns hoop on his red head in process. Looking at painter now it was easy to say that the evening left him satisfied and that certainly could be read as a good sign.</p><p>Kennedy's nose and cheeks were pressed to the lapels of Gogh's coat. He slowly inhaled. Vincent smelled nice. A mix of dry leaves, oil paints and shitty cigarettes... Wait, cigarettes? Pipsqueak could've shared. John made a tip to ask him about it later.</p><p>− You sleep? − eventually he decided on breaking the silence.</p><p>− No-o, just thinking</p><p>− About, er, what?</p><p>Lying here with the coolest boy of the school in outdoor clothes in a not very sober state was so badass that painter's stomach began to tingle. Their very relationship was badass. Of course, John F. Kennedy didn't stop being the king of the school, broads' lover and the most popular guy but to be honest Vincent didn't mind at all. Since Gogh gave jock a pair of art lessons they began to hang out together and something strange but exciting as fuck stirred between the two. Stolen glances, shitty flirty jokes used more than necessary, playful arguments formed an undeniable thing. All of it was a new, unexplored territory for Van Gogh and he really, <em>really </em>wanted to know it better.</p><p>− Painting stuff, − he lied.</p><p>They became a sort of comfort persons for each other. Especially after Ponce's death. You know, that kind of persons who spend every break sitting in the corner of art class debating about best brush materials with other art kids or shoving some unlucky first grader into a locker and winking at all cheerleaders passing by but crossing the whole town side by side to watch the sunflower field visible from the outskirts or suddenly appearing together on the annual race.</p><p><em>Opposites attract</em>. Huh, neither of them thought the saying could be so true to life.</p><p>− How's ya doin'? I haven't seen you much. Don't say you were hidin' in, er eh, bushes again</p><p>− You haven't seen me much because you were talking your ears off with ladies, dumbass</p><p>− Nah, they were nice. Er, losing their heads with my get-up. They wanted me to bite them! − he proudly smirked and poked his thumb against the sharp fang.</p><p>− Cool, − was the response, − so you did?</p><p>− Of course! − his gaze trailed to the ceiling and then back to redhead's face. Their eyes locked. JFK squinted.</p><p>− Huh?</p><p>− Why didn't I see you among them?</p><p>− What. Why? − painter pretended he didn't catch the idea. The thing of biting was weird at least and causing goosebumps of inexplicable feeling crawl up his spine at most.</p><p>
  <em>Because he hasn't thought about it already. Definitely hasn't. It's ridiculous. And kinky. And the unspoken thought hasn't been puddling in his brain the whole time-</em>
</p><p>− Mm, dunno. Thought it may be, um, cool...</p><p>Vincent's face was flashed by a short laugh but then changed realizing that himbo wasn't joking.</p><p>− But-but I told I'm not a fan of that things, − he protested, − by the way I already have one! − he pointed at two red marker dots on the side of his neck imitating a vamp bite, which were the cause of side looks cast to him and then to John who was, by the way, the only vamp at the party...</p><p>JFK suddenly shifted and straddled another boy. All his weight literally squeezed the air out of Vincent's lungs. Gogh gave him an uncertain look.</p><p>− But I wanna leave real ones, − brunette murmured lowering himself. Holding Gogh by the shoulders, he pressed his lips to redhead's throat, and <em>oh </em></p><p>
  <em>Teeth. Sharp. On the skin. </em>
</p><p>− What t-the fuck-k Ken-nnedy!.. − it seemed like the whole world swayed in whatsoever direction, colorful circles danced in front of Vincent's widened eyes.</p><p>− What? I haven't, er, done anything yet, − with a smirk John rose his head to look in painter's eyes, boys' noses were almost touching. JFK really only brushed against other's skin slightly, not awaiting <em>that</em> reaction.</p><p>Vincent could feel his neck and ears burning.</p><p>Without waiting for redhead to backup or get too confused, John yanked down again and left there a wet trail with his tongue, feeling the movement of Vincent's adam’s apple when he swallowed.</p><p>− You seem to be pretty into it, huh?</p><p>Kennedy easily got along with the thought that he didn't want to stop. More nibbles and kisses were pressed to shorter boy's neck.</p><p>− 's weird... − putting an immense amount of effort in keeping his voice steady Vincent practically deadly gripped the brunette's upper back not to lose his head or something.</p><p>− Get, er, ready, − the voice under his chin muttered and did something which Vincent didn't clearly make out.</p><p>− Get ready for wha-AH!</p><p>Okay this time it was for real. It was going to leave a mark. Or bruise. Or whatever. That was the last thing concerning Van Gogh right now. The first, in fact, was rapidly increasing temperature in the room. He hissed and arched his back giving the other a chance to snake his arms around thin waist and set there tightly. John was already soothing the spot when arms lost the grip on his back and ended up around his neck, tugging jock upwards. Redhead couldn't take this anymore and found himself pressing an ungently but surely eager kiss to the corner of other's mouth. JFK didn't need to be told twice and did it properly, pressing the small man with his whole body as close as possible. Painter's hands came to stroke the nape of his neck, then more carelessly, eventually ruffling JFK's styled mane. As a payment for indulgence John bit his lip harshly receiving a soft whine.</p><p>It was so, so overwhelming that redhead thought that the heat became unbearable and had to take off his coat pulling it down from his shoulders and shoving away.</p><p>Selfishly becoming a center of attention and attraction for someone like <em>him</em> was like a dream for Van Gogh. Dizzy. Unreal. A great desire to prove if it were real urged Vincent's hands to trail the bigger body remembering every fold and curve, touch his face, hands. Seemed like JFK understood and surrendered, letting the smallest man blindly touch him here and there, drowning in the feeling of closeness.</p><p>They finally parted. Being an entangled panting mess, regarding each other's disheveled red faces with a sort of teasing fondness seemed to be the most wonderful thing they could do in their lives.</p><p>Gogh buried himself in a crook of jock's neck affectively.</p><p>− I don't care what excuse you'll give to your dames when you'll be borrowin' me a concealer</p><p>− As you wish, sweetheart</p><p>Glow of dawn set at the sky. Gogh's gaze glued to the deep blue which was fluidly changing to light green and whitish yellow seen from other's wide shoulder. The air probably was painfully clear right now outside and the town was so empty that it seemed that Vincent's lungs could break from freedom overfilling him. He liked, no, he adored this time of day madly and a sudden desire to show the jock he caressed in his arms that magic of early morning made him carefully pull himself out of warm embrace receiving a raised brow. Redhead reached for his coat lying nearby and fished a pack of cigarettes from one of side pockets. Then smirked.</p><p>− Wanna join?</p><p>− Aw, we haven't done anything to smoke aft-! − his mouth was shut by giggling painter's hand.</p>
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